


A Day at the Aquarium!

by Maris_Blue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Bisexual!Hermione, Cute, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Marine Biology, Muggle Life, Muggles, Multi, Pansexual!Draco, Romance, Science, Written by an actual bisexual (yes they do exist), aquarium, draco works at the aquarium, gay!harry, harry studies marine biology, lesbian!ginny, lgbt inclusive, nerdy fanfiction, science nerd fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 9,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maris_Blue/pseuds/Maris_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Harry meet years after the war at the Aquarium, where Draco works and Harry is visiting as a Marine Biology Graduate Student. They reconnect and get together! Shameless, cute fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Harry, look! They’re feeding the penguins, isn’t that precious?” Hermione said, eagerly leaning over to get a better view as the two wetsuit-clad workers slipped into the shallow water. One of the workers, an auburn-haired female, was carrying two big plastic buckets of fish, while the other, a male with strikingly blonde hair, carried an official-looking whiteboard and an Expo marker.

“Oh my god, they’re adorable, Mione,” Ginny squealed, clutching her girlfriend’s hand tightly. “The feels, the feels! Must cuddle!”

“Which, the penguins or the boys?” Hermione raised an eyebrow, Ginny smacked Hermione playfully, and Harry laughed--everyone knew Hermione swung both ways.

“But Harry, what can you tell us about the penguins?” Ginny asked. “Surely that scholarship at Scripps must be paying off.”

Harry ran his fingers through his tangled black locks. “Well, for starters, those are little blue penguins, found off the coast of Australia and Madagascar. They’re the smallest species of penguins, and one of the loudest vocalizers. And did you know that penguins in general all live south of the Equator? They also all have knees,” he said breathlessly.

Hermione smiled benevolently and kissed Ginny’s cheek. “That certainly was very informative. Harry, you should write a paper!”

“I’ve written too many to count. Grad school does that to you,” he responded wryly. Harry Potter, Savior Extraordinaire of the Wizarding World, had shocked everyone by leaving the wizarding community for the Muggle world to pursue a career in Marine Biology, and surprised himself by getting a full scholarship to Scripps. Rita Skeeter had had a brief field day in the Prophet, writing about Harry’s “ocean fetish,” but she couldn’t follow him into the Muggle world, armed with her Quick-Quotes Quill, without disobeying Wizarding laws.

Harry’s eye was drawn back to the aquarium staff, who were now feeding the penguins, offering them small silvery fish--he recognized them as herring, capelin, and anchovy. The white-blonde man tapped his ear, turning on a mic, and spoke.

“Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome to the Scripps Aquarium! My name is Draco, and I am a Senior Educator. This is my friend Minerva; she volunteers here at the aquarium.”

Draco, Harry thought. Draco. He didn’t really have time to react before Ginny whipped around, out of Hermione’s arms, to look at Harry, eyes wide. “What is Draco Bloody Malfoy doing at the Scripps Aquarium?”


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Bloody Malfoy was having a horrible day at work, that’s what he was doing at the aquarium. First off, his train was late and his boss yelled at him, which could happen to anyone, but then he realized he had planned on asking her for a promotion to the job title of “Penguin Manager.” It was, he acquiesced, a comical title, but the previous Penguin Manager was moving on to work at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, and Draco had been hoping for dibs on her spot for the last eight months.

The next bad thing that had happened was that text Draco had received from Pansy Parkinson as he was checking his phone in the bathroom, waiting to change into his wetsuit. Pansy had sent a photo of Draco’s ex, Oliver Wood, cozying up to Neville Longbottom in one of the swankiest restaurants in Diagon Alley. That’s right, Wood and Longbottom were a thing. Wryly, Draco wondered if their names indicated their preferences in gay sex positions. And anyway, Draco had no problem with their relationship, but this didn’t stop him from feeling a pang of jealousy. Everyone had partnered up and matured, and he had never felt so alone now that Longbottom had beaten him in the competition of finding a suitable mate.

Draco shook himself back to the present. Right. Feeding the penguins. Doing his job so he could still have a good shot at that promotion and all that. He coughed and began his speech.

“Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome to the Scripps Aquarium! My name is Draco, and I am a Senior Educator. This is my friend Minerva; she volunteers here at the aquarium.”

He was just about to segue into the first line of his fabulous and informational speech when he heard the an unmistakable voice in the crowd yell, “What is Draco Bloody Malfoy doing at the Scripps Aquarium?”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry focused on the man more clearly. Draco Bloody Malfoy? Could it really be him? But the man had clearly heard Ginny’s outburst, he turned around and focused on Hermione, Ginny, and Harry in the crowd, all in various states of shock.

Hermione was the first to react in a positive way. “Hello, Draco!” she said cheerily, waving. “Been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Hermione!” Ginny hissed. “That’s Draco Bloody Malfoy!”

“We’ve got his attention, we might as well hold it in a positive way,” Hermione said in that annoying “Mom voice” she occasionally used. “Harry, Ginny, wave.”

To the trio’s relief, Draco turned his attention back to the penguins and his presentation. “I sure hope the rest of you are all as enthusiastic as you three in the crowd! To start off, let’s talk about these penguins. These are little blue penguins native to Australia and Madagascar. They’re the smallest species of penguin, but boy, are they loud!”

Draco’s penguin talk continued, but Harry heard very little of it. His thoughts whirled. Draco Bloody Malfoy was working at the Scripps Aquarium and loved Marine Biology. Draco Bloody Malfoy had changed a lot since the Great War, had done something productive, had made something of himself. And, Harry realized, a funny feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, Draco Bloody Malfoy was hot as fuck.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter! As if Draco’s day could get any worse: The speccy git, his overprotective “mother” Granger, and his annoying girlfriend (if not wife) were observing his penguin presentation.

Oh well. Draco had greeted them cheerfully from the mic like it was nothing (never mind the seven years of bad blood they had between them). Draco congratulated himself on acting like a professional even when shaken.

He continued his presentation on penguins by talking about some threats they faced, like overfishing and oil spills. “I’ll be taking myself off the microphone now, but I would love to take any questions from my wonderful audience. I hope you have a wonderful day at Scripps Aquarium and thank you very much for listening!”

He wasn’t surprised to see Granger’s hand shoot up, a flashback to their school days. “Yes?” he asked indulgently, surprising himself with his completely benign tone.

“I was just wondering, how did you get a job here?”

“I applied,” he said briskly. “It’s very easy to apply to volunteer here as well. Minerva, would you like to tell Ms. Granger how to volunteer at this penguins exhibit?”

Minerva tapped her own mic on and answered the question, and Draco wandered to the edge of the exhibit to say hello to his ex-enemies. He justified this, saying it wouldn’t look good to ignore interested guests, and it would look good to have an intellectual conversation while on the job, with the person with the brightest mind in his year. And, Draco admitted to himself, he had to get a fresh look at Boy Wonder, Harry Potter.


	5. Chapter 5

“Harry, he’s coming over,” hissed Ginny, grasping Hermione’s hand. “Mione, why did you even engage him?”

“Well, I feel like it’s only polite to say hello and have a proper chat with an old schoolmate,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, do you not remember the decades of fighting, grudges, and war? He’s Malfoy, Mione,” Harry grumbled.

“Yes, of course, Harry,” Hermione responded, fixing Harry with the best owly stare she could muster. “But you have to remember, as a wizard, you’re in the minority now, and when Ginny and I go back to Wizarding London, you’ll want company with other wizards. I know you do, because you said so last night. And, judging from your reaction, you were surprised to see Draco. Maybe he’s changed. He likes Marine Biology now, and--”

Harry elbowed Hermione in the ribs to shut her up as Draco came into earshot.

“Hello Draco,” Hermione said pleasantly. “What a coincidence to see you here!”

“Ms. Granger, Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” Draco said pleasantly as well, almost too sweetly.

“Oh--me--Ginny--no,” Harry stuttered. “That’s not--”

“What my daft friend here means to say,” Ginny said darkly, “Is that Harry and I are not dating, so please don’t assume.”

Draco looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Potter, then. How are you all doing today? What brings you to the Scripps Aquarium?”

“Oh, Ginny and I are visiting Harry for the week,” Hermione said casually. “We’re touring Scripps, because that’s where Harry’s going to school. But we’re going back to London next Monday.”

“Potter?” Harry found himself on the other end of a strong, grey-eyed gaze. “You’re interested in Marine Biology as well, I assume?”

“Oh. Um, yeah,” Harry said. “I’m getting my graduate degree from Scripps.”

“How prestigious. Congratulations, it’s been very good to see you three,” Draco said smoothly. Just then, another visitor called out a question from the other side of the tank, and Draco turned to answer it. “I suppose I’ll see you around, Potter,” he called out before he left. “Marine biologists tend to exist in similar circles.”


	6. Chapter 6

As Draco changed out of his wetsuit, he contemplated how strange it was that Harry Potter had appeared, out of the blue, at his place of work. Potter was the last person from school he had expected to ever see again. When Draco left the Wizarding world, he had predicted Potter would marry the Weasley girl, become a big strong Auror, and carry on being rich, famous, and heroic.

But Draco hadn’t checked Wizarding news for months. He’d been too busy not stalking Harry Potter, and doing things like getting a real Muggle job.

During lunch when his curiosity finally became insurmountable, he locked the door to his office, drew down the drapes, and fetched his wand from the secret compartment of his satchel.

He swished and flicked and whispered the incantation: “Informatio Harry Potter.” And all of the recent information, including moving photographs, appeared like a hologram out of the air. Wizarding Google (which was more advanced and even easier to use than Muggle Google) had gotten an update since the last time he had used it. 

“Harry Potter Emerges Heroic, Leaves Wizarding World Indefinitely!”

“Our Saviour the Scientist!”

“Harry Betrays Wizarding World for Muggle Community!”

“Harry Potter’s Big Gay Ocean Fetish!” (Not surprisingly, that was the least fact-based and most acidic article, written by none other than Rita Skeeter. Draco chuckled, glad to have escaped the old hag.)

Draco was just about to swish and flick for the hologram to vanish into thin air before one more headline caught his eye. “Out of the Cupboard and the Closet!” He gestured with his wand, and the article opened.

Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, has Recently Come Out as Gay!

The article was not written by Rita Skeeter.

It was written by Luna Lovegood, new owner of reputable, fact-based publication, the Quibbler.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the trio’s day spent at the Scripps Aquarium was wonderful. Harry patted a zebra shark at the Shark Touch Tank and had intellectual discourse about their evolutionary origins with an extremely bright teenage girl. Hermione awed everyone at the Pacific Coast tanks by reciting out the scientific names of all the species there (although she wasn’t the one getting the Marine Biology degree), and Ginny hung on her girlfriend’s arm, enthused by the novelty of Muggle living. (“Why doesn’t it move?” Ginny had asked, a bit too loudly, as they received their souvenir picture.)

Now, souvenir photos in hand, the group headed was headed to the gift shop and then the exit.

“We should get some seafood,” said Hermione jokingly, pointing across the lobby of the aquarium and into the plaza where a squat building was located. “Look! There’s a Seafood Shack right there. It’s like they want you to get fish after spending a day at the aquarium.”

“Oh, yuck,” Harry said. After the war, he became a devout vegetarian; he knew how it felt to die, and wouldn’t wish a needless and premature death on anyone, especially animals.

“Come off it, Harry. Look! There’s Draco again!” Hermione said, giddy. A flash of white-blonde hair amongst the gift shop’s shelves was visible out of the corner of Harry’s eye, and he turned his head. “Should we invite him out to dinner?”

She was met with two blank stares. But before Harry or Ginny could object, Hermione Granger was sauntering up to their ex-nemesis, and saying cheerfully, “Oh hello again, Draco! Would you like to come for dinner with us?”


	8. Chapter 8

Draco Malfoy was surprised when Hermione Granger approached him in the gift shop. But he wasn’t too surprised. He had planned it a little anyway, at least, as much as he could.

He had let himself off work a little bit early and was browsing in the gift shop (the only way for visitors to exit the aquarium), waiting for his former schoolmates to leave as well. But it was totally justified. Earlier that day, he had seen Harry’s butt from the Penguin Room, which had a big glass window so that visitors could see how the staff took care of the penguins. They had waved cordially, and Harry walked away. Draco admitted to himself that he may have admired that view for a little longer than strictly necessary.

Only because he now knew Harry was gay, of course, and wasn’t it natural that two men who liked men might check each other out? Queer men were so few and far between. But then again, Harry didn’t know that Draco was pansexual.

And maybe he was killing for a little bit of Wizarding company. Draco had surreptitiously waved his wand over several bulletin boards in town looking for messages about meetups, and nothing had appeared underneath. Clearly San Diego didn’t have a very big wizarding population. Draco was pretty sure most American wizards lived in Salem, Massachusetts.

Draco forced himself back to the present and focused on Hermione’s words. “Would you like to come for dinner with us?” she was saying.

Don’t sound too desperate, he thought. Make them think you have a social calendar, and a social life, don’t sound awkward--“I’m free tonight. I’d absolutely love to!” he said cheerily, staring at Harry. Since when had Harry’s wild hair gone from looking like an overgrown bush to looking like sex hair? Since when had Harry’s face evened out, and he now had the most beautiful jawline Draco had ever seen? Since when had his lips looked so plump and kissable?

It was only a physical attraction, but...a man could dream. Harry probably already had a boyfriend; the fucking Savior of the Wizarding World likely had blokes waiting in a line for a shag.

“Where do you want to go?” Hermione was asking the rest of the group.

“Um, if we want to truly catch up, we should, um, get carry-out and go to my flat,” Harry suggested, mouthing the word muggles. “Malfoy, um, you like Thai? There’s a great place by my block.”

Draco surprised himself again by grinning. “Sure, I’d love to.”


	9. Chapter 9

Harry followed Draco out of the aquarium to an abandoned alley. For an alley, at least, it was pretty clean: the cobblestone ground wasn’t too dirty, and there was no unappealing alley stench.

“This is the only place it’s safe to Disapparate,” Draco said, then added pompously, “Of course, I scrougify it regularly, but dirty Muggles keep littering here.”

“Um, I usually take the bus home,” Harry said. He had been too lazy to scout around for out-of-the-way alleyways or secluded corners to Disapparate.

Draco’s nose wrinkled. “The bus, Potter?”

There was Draco’s urbane tone again, that he remembered from school. Harry saw Ginny narrow her eyes.

“Okay, so working at a Muggle aquarium and wearing Muggle clothes is okay, but Merlin forbid you take the bus?” Harry asked.

“Potter, Wizards don’t have any educational aquariums, and, as of right now, I’m wearing Chanel.” Draco shook out the sleeves of his finely cut black shirt.

Harry tried not to look impressed. Chanel. And it did suit Draco very well, he noted. The sleek garment accentuated Draco’s lithe shoulders and flat, toned chest. Suddenly, he had the abrupt urge to rip that shirt right off him and admire the beauty that must lay beneath.

“Anyway, Potter, do you plan on Apparating us there, or are you just going to check me out all night?”

Harry quickly tore away his gaze and grabbed Draco’s arm and popped off to his flat, he thought he heard Draco whisper sensually, “Because if you’re going to do that, Potter, I’d rather you do that in bed.”

And then Harry shook his head, because of course Draco hadn't said that and it was just his randy brain making stuff up again.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco opened his eyes slowly once the swirling in his stomach stopped. He was greeted by an airy living room with a soft, plushy couch, a large TV, and tidy coffee tables and bookshelves. A desk sat in the corner with a sleek Macbook resting atop it, along with colorful folders, highlighters, and Post-Its.

“Do you like it?” Harry’s voice came from his side. Draco looked up into nervous bright green eyes. Was Harry blushing?

“Very nice, Potter,” he drawled somewhat unenthusiastically, lifting one eyebrow, and Harry grinned.

“That means you like it, you like it a lot,” Harry responded, and they both laughed.

Harry’s laugh was sexy. It was peppy, cheerful, and hearty. Draco felt tingly hearing it.

Since when did you start joking with Harry Potter, his brain asked. Oh, since right about now. His laugh, and his chest, and his eyes are sexy.

Hermione and Ginny came down the stairs holding hands. “Sorry,” Hermione said. “We Apparated straight to the bedroom by accident.”

“Are you sure it was on accident?” Draco asked, smirking.

Hermione laughed, but Ginny stared daggers. Draco saw Hermione pinch her girlfriend’s arm. 

“Hermione, do you want to call for takeout? Just get the Thai Sharing Platter, so we can all try a bit of everything,” Harry said, “And either I could get it, or you two could get it.”

“We’ll go get it, Mione and I need to have a little chat,” Ginny said, and her anger focused on Draco again.

Draco realized he was still holding onto Harry’s arm. He coughed and let it go. Harry looked at him acutely, and Draco felt his face grow warm.

Hermione picked up her phone and headed to the kitchen. Ginny glared some more, about to follow her girlfriend out before Draco called out.

“Weasl--um, Ginevra,” Draco said, his own cheeks tinged with pink. “For what it’s worth, I apologize. I am very sorry for the events of the Great War. I was only a child then, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be held accountable for my actions. I am sorry for the suffering your family endured because of my foolish choices. If my presence really makes you uncomfortable, I should go, because I know that you look at me and are reminded of your loss. Still, I want you to know that I’ve changed. I’m no longer the little tyrant that I was in school, and that I have been trying to repair the relationships I severed at Hogwarts. Ginevra Weasley, I would like to extend the olive branch to you.”


	11. Chapter 11

Harry stared at Draco, shocked. Draco Malfoy had just apologized. To Ginny Weasley. A Pureblood apologizing to a “blood-traitor.” What’s more, Draco’s apology was sincere, heartfelt, and clearly he felt vulnerable, because he sniffed and regained composure.

“And I apologize to you, Potter, you insufferable brat.”

“Um, yeah. Thanks, I guess,” Harry said. “I’m sorry, too, Malfoy.”

“Aw, Harry, Draco, that’s really sweet,” said Hermione, coming back from the kitchen. “By the way, food will be ready in ten.”

Harry noticed Draco didn’t apologize to Hermione. Why? Hermione had suffered at Draco’s hand, too--years of slurs and teasing that had caused her to crumple with anxiety attacks several times, fearful of Crabbe and Goyle as well.

“Draco,” Hermione said, “Why don’t you tell Harry and me about how you got to working at the aquarium?” She winked, smiled, and sat down casually, crossing her legs on Harry’s loveseat. Harry was really and truly confused at her odd behavior.

“Well, after the War, I knew was done with Wizarding society. So I practiced living without magic for a bit and applied to the most prestigious University in the Muggle world to pursue my dreams.”

“What, Harvard?” Harry asked, almost disgusted. He was so sick of everybody wanting to go to Harvard. Besides, Scripps was better, at least from a Marine Biology perspective.

“No,” Draco frowned. “University of Hawaii. Hogwarts looks very good on Muggle transcripts, now that, I didn’t know.” (Hogwarts appeared, at least to Muggle eyes as a prestigious English prep school, provided that student had passed Muggle Studies and could be trusted to not do magic around Muggles without acting too strangely around technology such as the car and the mobile telephone.)

“Hawaii,” Harry murmured appreciatively. He wished he had had the foresight to apply there. Relax on an island while you get your degree. Plus, surf and sun, and mostly sun, which meant tanned, toned, muscular boys. Harry looked at Draco. Was it his imagination or did Draco look a bit healthier, tanner, less pale and pointy? Maybe he had evened out, gotten fit, but his eyes were still a sharp grey, the color of an English sky, and his hair was still white pale. It looked deliciously soft.

Harry tore his attention away from Draco’s hair. “So I majored in Marine Biology. I’ve always been interested in the ocean--especially when my parents used to take me on tropical vacations. I’m interested in research, but right now, I’ve got my job as Penguin Manager at the Scripps Aquarium, and I may decide to apply to graduate school and do research later on in my life. Now, Potter, I want to hear about why you are in my field.”

“I, um, just wanted to. After the war, I got tired of trying to be everybody’s Savior and Wonder and all that, so I wanted a complete reversal from what I was used to. I went off onto a new adventure in the Muggle Biology world that contained hopefully less death and destruction than what I had spent the past six years fighting.”

“Have you not heard of coral bleaching, or ocean acidification, or overfishing, or literally anything related to climate change?” Draco sniffed. “Honestly, Potter? Less death and destruction?”

But Draco’s grey eyes were twinkling and Harry knew he was joking. Harry felt warm inside.


	12. Chapter 12

The night continued, and Draco’s primal urge to kiss his ex-nemesis, Harry Potter, shot up exponentially.

There were several reasons for this: one, Harry’s laugh, his bright green eyes, his messy sex hair--but these had already been noted and catalogued by Draco’s analytical mind. Two, Harry’s personality. He had changed, and though Draco could see some parts of the boy he had known (and hated) at school, he was able to appreciate them now. Three, he was gay, openly gay, joking and laughing with Hermione and Ginny about his sexual orientation. Draco figured if Harry was straight he probably wouldn’t have felt such a strong attraction. 

But maybe not: Draco had identified as pansexual since puberty because it was the most logical option. Not being constrained by the boundaries of gender when picking a partner was always good idea in a stupid society that placed way too many restrictions on a person based on their genitals.

Over dinner (which was eaten casually in the sitting room because Harry didn't care for setting the table), Draco fed Harry a bite of his spicy Vegan Pad Thai.

“Stop flirting with me, you ponce,” Harry said campily, slinging his arm around Draco’s shoulders. It was a warm, amicable feeling, and Draco used it as an excuse to lean in closer. Harry smelled nice, appley, cinnamony, and sugary all at once.

“I’m not a ponce, I’m pan,” Draco responded with a sniff and a raised eyebrow. “What if I’m not trying to get with you, rather, Hermione or Weasley? Promiscuous Pansexuals, that is our nickname in the LGBT community.”

Ginny shrieked. “But I’m taken! And a lesbian! And ew! Fucking Malfoy!?”

“On second thought, I wouldn’t want to bang Weasley either, so the feeling is mutual. I could always use my Lustful Powers of Pansexuality to entice Hermione, I’ve heard she swings both ways,” Draco murmured. “After all, I am sexy as hell.”

“Mmm,” Harry murmured in agreement, tightening his grip around Draco’s shoulders. Hermione, sitting across from them on the loveseat, sent a not-too-subtle thumbs up Harry’s way.


	13. Chapter 13

At eleven o’clock, Hermione dragged Ginny upstairs to their bedroom, again shooting extremely suggestive glances at Harry.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Harry warned, blowing them a kiss as the pair ascended the stairs.

“Same goes for you,” Hermione responded.

“Well, goodnight, Harry, Malfoy,” Ginny said civilly. Harry had noticed her attitude towards Draco improve to being polite but wary, and he had even caught her laughing at one of Draco’s jokes.

Harry was now left alone in the sitting room with Draco Malfoy. Draco’s arm was still around his shoulders, and throughout the night, Draco had been caressing Harry’s upper arm with his hand. This was subtle movement was entirely too erotic for Harry, who felt the pangs of attraction deep in chest (and also other places).

“I suppose I should be getting home,” Draco whispered.

Harry did not want Draco to leave. “No, you should stay. I mean…I want you…”

Draco exhaled and turned to face Harry, who stared into those dark grey eyes. Harry’s brain, panicking due to the proximity and the potential of what was about to happen, noticed that Draco’s eyes contained icy blue flecks. And he could smell Draco’s cologne even more profoundly now. Expensive, probably Chanel or Versace or something even more valuable, and he was relishing the sharp scent, and Draco inched closer, and Harry pulled Draco even closer to him…

And the boys’ lips met, and Harry was kissing Draco Bloody Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally got together! :)


	14. Chapter 14

Draco Malfoy was finally kissing Harry Potter, and he couldn’t believe it. Harry’s lips were warm and welcoming. They melted together into the kiss, backwards onto the couch. Draco smelled and tasted a hint of apple on Harry’s skin.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” Draco said at the same time as Harry, their voices echoing together as they broke the kiss to come up for air.

Harry smiled shyly at Draco and patted Draco’s (soft and fine) hair, and then they were kissing again. Harry’s hands slid under Draco’s shirt, and Draco’s hands were massaging Harry’s butt, which felt lovely under his hands. Looking at Harry’s ass from afar in the Penguin Room could never possibly compare to touching the beautiful body part.

Harry was murmuring, little hums and sounds against Draco’s mouth, which were incredibly arousing. Draco opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, and shifted his body to face Harry more so he was straddling Draco’s lap. Harry kissed sweetly, gently, less aggressively than Draco thought the Savior of the Wizarding World might.

Draco curled into Harry’s embrace, high on a heady rush of adrenaline, let out a quiet moan as Harry kissed down Draco’s cheek, jawline, and neck. One of Harry’s thumbs sneaked down to the bottom of Draco’s shirt and lifted slightly, almost questioningly.

Draco nodded thickly. “Bed?” he whispered, his heart beating fast. Yeah, it was a little presumptuous to invite himself into Harry's bedroom, but it also was eleven-thirty, bedtime hours. A nagging voice in the back of Draco's head reminded him that regardless of the fact that tomorrow was Sunday, he had to be at work to care for the penguins at precisely ten o'clock if he wished to keep his job.

But Draco's libido was making all of the decisions, so he kept quiet, straining to hear Harry's response.

“Yes,” Harry whispered back.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry cheerfully (and somewhat lustily) recalled the night’s events while making breakfast and tea for himself and his guests the next morning. Hermione sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through Wizarding news on a tablet and reading some of the more interesting tidbits aloud.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt has been promoted to Minister of Magic…Harry? You paying attention?”

“Hmm, yes,” Harry responded. But he wasn't. He was thinking about Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, who had stayed the night. Draco Malfoy, who had left early in the morning for work, but not before leaving a creamy, heavy-weight slip of paper with his name and number scrawled on it in what Harry identified as a fountain pen. (Yup, that’s how Draco rolled.) Draco Malfoy, who had those beautiful grey eyes and that luscious pale skin. Draco Malfoy, who had sucked off the Boy Who Lived. And the Boy Who Lived, who had only been too happy to return the favor.

“And Rita Skeeter lost her lawsuit against Luna Lovegood and the Quibbler--Harry, there’s no point in talking to you this morning. You clearly are too distracted by thoughts of Malfoy’s luscious arse. I’m surprised, I thought you two would have been louder,” Hermione said. “Where is he, by the way?”

“He woke up early. He had to go to work to Manage the Penguins,” Harry responded.

Ginny stumbled down the stairs yawning. “You and Malfoy, well that’s a bloody fucking joke.” Ginny always cursed in the mornings. “I couldn’t say I didn’t see it coming. I only ship it a little. Now where is the goddamn fucking coffee?”

“You didn’t see it coming. You heard it all from me and Pansy,” Hermione told Ginny, and passed her girlfriend coffee in the largest mug that Harry owned. It was a bright red, gaudy object that proclaimed in bolded font, “Of course size matters! Nobody wants a small mug of coffee!”

“I’m stealing this mug,” Ginny said blatantly.

“Wait. Hermione, you said Pansy Parkinson?” Harry shrieked. He didn’t mean to shriek. He just yelled, but it came out a bit high pitched and surprised.

“Harry, think with your head. I am a full-grown adult, so is Parkinson, and we have apologized. The war is behind us now. I mean, you shouldn’t be all that surprised that Pansy and I are friends, considering you just shagged your childhood enemy last night. Who would have guessed ten years ago, Harry,” Hermione said, laughing.

“I don’t know--what--how did this happen?” Harry asked. “You’ve never told me this!”

“Well, it’s partially why Ron and I don’t get along as well anymore,” Hermione said. “I mean, other than the fact that I left him for his sister because of her womanly wiles.”

Ginny tittered. “And the fact that my brother is a disgusting old coot and it shocks me that my brother and I dated the same woman. Harry, you’re coming to his and Cho’s wedding, right?”

Harry was planning to attend that wedding. It was odd how things were turning out, he thought. Ron and Cho, Hermione and Ginny, Harry and Draco. Oh, yeah, and Neville Longbottom and Oliver Wood--nobody had seen that one coming.

“Besides, Pansy and I have had some very enlightening conversations about you and Draco. I mean, Harry,” Hermione said conversationally. “Pansy and I orchestrated the whole damn thing.”


	16. Chapter 16

Draco thought of Harry while scrubbing the penguins’ rocky enclosure with a bristle brush and veterinary disinfectant. Mostly, he was contemplating how sad it was to leave Harry naked and alone in bed. But work had to be done, money had to be made (though this was not imperative for Draco), and careers had to be established (maintaining one's reputation in the field was imperative).

Besides, even though he had spent the night at Harry’s, Draco was glad they hadn’t truly shagged, preferring a slow buildup--romance and dating, which in his opinion led to more intimate, sensual sex.

Which was why he left his phone number by the side of Harry’s bed. This action also showed, hopefully, that Draco wasn’t in for a one-night stand or an informal shag. Also, the ball was now in Harry's court, and Draco wanted to be wined and dined by Harry.

“Minerva,” he told his assistant as he worked away at a particularly hard bit of guano, “I’ve got news.”

Minerva raised one eyebrow cynically, an expression Draco was all too familiar with. “Let me guess. You finally got together with somebody?”

It wasn’t really a work-appropriate question, so he really should have told her off for it, but all the aquarium visitors were out of earshot. 

“Yes, actually,” Draco said pompously, enjoying watching her mouth drop open. He further enjoyed holding back information the more she wheedled and cajoled for details. Draco had to hand it to her; if Minerva had been at Hogwarts, she’d be a Slytherin for sure. Her sassy personality reminded him somewhat of Pansy.

Pansy Parkinson. Draco had to tell Pansy about Harry Potter. It had only happened last night, but she was going to flip out the second she heard. Because Pansy had called it. After his class’s return for an informal “eighth-year,” Harry and Draco had squabbled, this time with less malice and more of what Pansy proclaimed was “sexual tension.”

Draco spent the rest of his morning hosing off the penguin habitat, answering questions from visitors, supervising Minerva’s microphone presentation, and feeding the penguins their usual diet of defrosted herring, capelin, and anchovy.

On lunch break, Draco video-chatted Pansy. He was not prepared from the barrage of noise that issued from the phone.

“I heard all about it!” Pansy squealed. “Took you long enough, eh? So when are you seeing him next? Was it lovely? Who topped? Bet it wasn’t you! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I ship it, I ship it, I ship it so hard Draco, you don’t even know!”

“How the fuck did you find out?” Had Harry spilled the beans? Told the Wizarding World that Draco was easy or something?

“Hermione Granger! Duh!” Pansy rolled her eyes as if it was obvious. “We concocted a little plan, and it totally worked!”


	17. Chapter 17

Usually, Harry spent his Sunday afternoons at the little coffee shop down the street, listening to classical music on his headphones and finishing off the week’s assignments (graduate school was no joke and there was no time for slacking). However, this Sunday, Harry showed Hermione and Ginny to the Portkey center downtown and bade them farewell while waiting for the Portkey to activate and whisk them back to London.

But Harry couldn’t focus. He kept on thinking about Malfoy, and, more particularly, the fact that he had been set up, and their relationship wasn’t likely to work because of it. Everything would be awkward now with Malfoy, such that Harry couldn’t even stomach thinking of the man’s first name. Draco. Harry wanted to vomit. They had spent one lovely, albeit brief, night together, and Harry felt too embarrassed to contact him because he felt the relationship was started off on false pretenses. Harry knew Malfoy would hate him when he found out about the deception anyway.

Hermione, for all her emotional adeptness, did not notice Harry's discomfort, excitedly explaining her and Pansy’s roles as matchmakers.

“I still can’t believe you two are friends,” Harry said evenly.

“Honestly, Harry, you had expected me and Pansy not to be friends? We work in the same department! She’s changed, too, just like Draco has! And we’re no longer the snotty-nosed brats from school, no?”

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Ginny asked.

Before he could answer, Hermione chattered on. “And a while ago, Pansy let Draco’s secret slip. He’s had a low-key crush on you since sixth year, Harry. Sixth year!”

“Does Draco know this was all an elaborate plan?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe Pansy’ll tell him. It doesn’t matter, Harry, he left you his number! The ball’s in your court--all you have to do is text hey! And anyway, Harry, the parallels were ridiculous! You two, in the same field, Draco’s got a job near you somehow, and you’re both gay! Malfoy living as a fucking Muggle!” Hermione crowed. “So of course I texted Pansy that we had to go see Draco. She told me he worked at the aquarium and ever so kindly provided me with Draco’s work schedule.”

“Okay, but Mione,” Harry said. “Draco’s going to be pissed he was set up, and he won’t text back, I bet.”

“Oh, trust me, Harry,” Hermione said, “He will! You could see from the way he was looking at you last night. Draco’s smitten with you, Harry.”


	18. Chapter 18

“You fucking, pretentious, stuck-up little bitch!” Draco roared through the phone. He threw up a shoddy wandless Muffliato charm and hoped it would hold--it still wouldn’t do to get caught swearing at work.

“Honestly, Draco, stop being such a drama queen!” Pansy yelled back. “You got shagged because of me! You’ve been in love with him since sixth year!”

“You fucking meddled with my love life! How many times have I told you not to do that!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“The last thing I need is Potter thinking I need to be set up! Potter’s going to hate me, he’s going to think it’s all a joke because you meddled! And I bet you told Granger that I liked Harry since sixth year! Fuck you! He’s going to think I’m some desperate, whiny git who still hasn’t gotten over a school rivalry! He’s going to think I’m lonely, and simple, and can’t move on! He’s going to hate me and judge me!”

“Calm down, Draco,” Pansy said.

“I will not calm down!”

“You are overreacting way too much. All I did was I told Granger that we should get you two together because it would be totally cute. Also, you’ve been dancing around each other since you were twelve! It’s time somebody did something about it!”

“I literally haven’t talked about Potter for two years!”

“No, you haven’t,” Pansy retorted. “Just about every time I call you I hear, ‘So how is the wonderful fucking Savior doing?’ and I say, ‘I don’t know. I think he’s in the Muggle world.’ And you say, ‘Remember school days?’ And I say, ‘Yeah, you used to admire Potter’s arse for weeks.’ And you never deny it, Draco, you never do!”

“Whatever, Pansy. I hope you’re happy you meddled. Potter’s never going to text me. I left my number by his bed table. My number! He will not text, and I will be single, and it will be your fault, and I should never have gone over to his house. I am going into hysterics. At work. This is all your fault. You’ve ruined my chances with Potter by your meddling--”

“Although I’m not sure why,” Pansy interrupted. “If anything, Hermione and I were just smoothing and helping the process along. But whatever you say, darling. And I wouldn't give up hope, he's not the Saviour of the Wizarding World for nothing. I'm sure he has enough balls to press some damn buttons on a phone. Maybe he will text you, Draco.”

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Draco, holding the phone up to his ear, could feel it vibrating. Pansy heard it. “See?” she crowed triumphantly. “That’s him now!”

Draco pulled the phone away from his ear so he could see the notification. An unknown number with the San Diego area code.

Hey Malfoy, it's Harry, the text read. Do you want to get dinner on Friday?


	19. Chapter 19

Finally settling down at the cafe, Harry ordered a large vanilla mocha and was just opening his laptop to finish the reading, write some emails, and work on his thesis when his phone buzzed.

Hey Potter. I would. Pick me up at six?

Above that text, someone had written, Hey Malfoy, it’s Harry. Do you want to get dinner on Friday?

Harry hadn’t texted Malfoy yet, so someone else had.

Harry couldn’t find his phone when he was bringing Ginny and Hermione down to the Portkey center, so he figured that Ginny had surreptitiously texted Malfoy, probably under Hermione’s orders. Harry felt like he should have been more upset, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little at the scope and thoroughness of the girls’ plan; they obviously knew that he wasn’t going to text Malfoy first, and had decided to do the dirty work for him. 

In actuality, this was better for Harry’s mental state, because now he wasn’t worrying about whether he should text Malfoy or not, or the hidden meaning or motive behind Malfoy leaving his number on Harry’s bed, or whether the time of the day was right, or obsessing over the language of the text, as one was wont to do when a cute boy was involved.

“I suppose you’ll get what you want, as you always do, Hermione,” he murmured to himself as he tapped away, only editing the text a few times before pressing send.

Great! Where would you like to go? 

Whatever you want. We could go out, there’s a neat little Italian place near my house if you want.

Draco’s response was fast.

Harry agreed, and hoped Draco would invite him inside afterwards. Draco had stayed at Harry’s place that night, even though he could have Apparated home. And Harry had thoroughly enjoyed sleeping curled up next to a warm, soft, smooth body.

Harry’s focus for the rest of the afternoon at the cafe was shot. It was a trend that he predicted that would continue until Friday, the day that he and Draco could go on their first, official, solo date.


	20. Chapter 20

By Friday, Draco had forgiven Pansy, and furthermore, apologized to her for his previous rage.

“Of course, my darling,” Pansy had said over the phone. “But after all I’ve done for you, I think you owe me one. You should Portkey me out there so I can see you, go shopping, get a tan, the works?”

Draco promised she could. “But first you have to deal with my problem, Pansy, considering you’re at fault for it. Potter and I are having dinner and he’s arriving at my house at six today. He is arriving in three hours! I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to wear, I don’t think the house is up his standards, the fucking Savior, and I really can’t do this,” he blabbered into the phone.

Pansy laughed. “Whatever, Draco. You’ll be fine, I know your house is pristine and perfect, so you’re fine. Please stop worrying, don’t panic, and don’t overdo it on the cologne. Now I’ve really gotta run, I’m going to be late for my date with Luna! The world doesn’t revolve around you and your dating schedule!”

Luna Lovegood? What was the world coming to? My best friend and Loony Lovegood. Nobody could have predicted that, Draco thought.

In the next three hours, Draco Malfoy was possibly the most productive, and did the most housework, than he had ever done before in his life. Both the guest room and the master bedrooms were stripped and cleaned (the Muggle way, because a scrougify would be much too rough for Draco’s 1,000 thread count sheets). The floors were magically swept and mopped with magical artefacts that Draco had stolen from the Manor. Knickknacks were arranged, the house was sprayed.

And then Draco himself took a forty-five minute shower, scrubbed, groomed, and spent twenty minutes picking out clothes. Never mind that Harry might arrive in faded, dingy jeans, or worse, sweatpants: Draco was going to be wearing a trendy leather jacket, a purple turtleneck, and dark wash designer jeans.

Draco had just fastened his watch around his wrist and waved his wand to send glittery puffs of perfume into the air when the doorbell rang.

Heart in his throat, Draco answered it.


	21. Chapter 21

Standing there, outside of Draco Malfoy’s door, Harry’s courage nearly deserted him. He had no idea how he was going to deal with this evening. Draco was so sophisticated and urbane, and even his house was imposing: an Art Deco apartment building, in the stylish part of town, with shiny gold elevators and a buzzer.

Draco’s voice crackled over the speakerphone. “Hello?”

“Um, hi Draco, it’s me. Harry.”

“Do you want to come up?”  
“Um, yeah, sure.” Harry gulped, and the apartment door swung open, and he walked forth, shaking out his shirtsleeves as he did so. Harry had actually showered for this date. And he had emerged from the shower to find a package, along with Hermione’s snappish owl, Jacie, whose defining characteristic was the small pair of wire spectacles that enlarged her already owly eyes.

Once Harry had calmed the owl with treats, the package revealed itself to be a dark grey and white flannel shirt, black skinny jeans, and a beanie. Hermione had gone all out planning this date, and Harry couldn’t tell if he owed her a million dollars or a huge tongue-lashing for her meddling. He decided he would wait until the date was over.

Harry rode the elevator from the lobby to the third floor and stepped into the entryway: Draco’s apartment.

And the pointy git stood right in front of him, a smirk on his oh-too-kissable lips. Harry’s pulse sped up. “You clean up nicely,” Draco said conversationally. “Makes me think better about taking you to bed. You see, I was afraid you were going to wear sweatpants.”

“Um, yeah, I tried harder this time,” Harry mumbled. “But, um, well, Hermione picked this out.”

“Granger? She does have excellent taste,” Draco drawled. “Not bad for a Muggleborn.”

“That’s because this is Muggle fashion,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“That, I know,” Draco responded, rolling his. “Potter, can I get you anything to drink? By the way, our dinner reservation is at seven.”

“No thanks,” Harry said, and sat down in the living room. It was an elegant living room. Two plush, dark green couches faced the sleek TV, and a fireplace sat in the corner.

“That’s only for the Floo,” Draco said, nodding at it. “I couldn’t light a real fire, the smoke alarms go off, I learned that the hard way.”

“That’s okay,” Harry said. Then he realized Draco was joking and laughed awkwardly, a half-beat off.

So what do you talk about during a date? What they want to do with their life--family, kids, career, life in general, love I guess, he thought.

“Um, you have a nice place,” Harry began awkwardly.

“Oh, I know,” Draco said airily. “I furnished it halfway with only the best Wizarding items, but then I came upon Art Deco in one of those interior design catalogues that my neighbor had accidentally left out. I kind of forgot you can’t steal other peoples’ mail at the time, which was awkward for a bit. But anyway, in the catalogue, I saw the pictures and I was hooked, so I used some tricky spellwork that merged magic with technology.” 

“But that's so difficult to do! And it's never been done by anyone else than Dumbledore!” Harry exclaimed, remembering Mr. Weasleys' cluttered garage full of broken Muggle artefacts. 

“What can I say,” Draco smirked. “All that work I did in school paid off. I'm brilliant.”


	22. Chapter 22

Draco and Harry caught up over their dinner at a fancy little Italian place, where Draco ordered in perfect Italian and watched, amused, while Harry stumbled over the words “spaghetti” and “parmesan.” Due to nerves, probably.

“I honestly never thought I’d be here,” Draco said conversationally. “Having a dinner date with my ex-nemesis from school, in the Muggle world. So tell me, Boy Wonder, what was the coming out process like for you?”

“It was very difficult, actually. Rita Skeeter outed me after she caught me with Aiden Barnsby,” Harry said.

Oh. Aiden. Draco had heard of Aiden, a successful Quidditch player who was known for his his skinny Seeker’s frame and white-blonde hair.

“I didn’t know you dated Aiden,” Draco said, “You know, people think we look a lot alike.”

“I think that may have been one of the factors in my dating him, if I’m completely truthful,” Harry said, not daring to look at Draco. Aiden and Harry had broken up when Aiden caught Harry calling out Draco’s name in the shower, although Aiden had thankfully never gone to the press or told anyone about it--as far as Harry knew.

“That’s disgusting, Potter. If you had asked, you could have just had the real thing,” Draco scoffed, but he was smiling.

“Yeah, um, if I’m being completely truthful...I probably, um, had a crush on you, in like, sixth year,” Harry said. “Hermione said that every time we fought, it was just, um, sexual tension.”

Draco smiled, both on the inside and outside. Harry looked adorable, all skeptical and unsure if he should be telling Draco that. For perhaps the fiftieth time that night, Draco wanted to stand up, scream, “Fuck this poser dinner!” and take Harry home to shag him.

Later, later, his brain reminded his dick. If everything goes right, you can do that later.

“I mean, Potter, I probably have had a crush on you since sixth year too. Even earlier perhaps. When you wanted to be my friend the first day of Hogwarts,” Draco said.

“Isn’t it funny how times change?” Harry said. Draco wanted to lean in and devour his mouth, the mouth that was making that beautiful half smile, the mouth that couldn’t pronounce “spaghetti alfredo,” the mouth that belonged to Harry.

But instead Draco lifted his glass and said, “Cheers.”


	23. Chapter 23

Harry paid the bill, of course. “I mean I’m not paying, Potter, I’m over here playing hard to get,” Draco said. “It’s your job to woo me.”

“Well, the next one’s on you,” Harry responded jovially as he laid down a Muggle credit card and tipped a generous twenty five percent.

“How presumptuous of you, thinking there’ll be a second date,” Draco quipped back.

“I think we should get dessert,” Harry suggested. “I don’t want this date to end just yet.”

“Maybe it won’t, Potter,” he thought he heard Draco whisper.

And a few blocks down the street, a short walk through which Draco slipped his hand into Harry’s; was a cutesy little cupcake bakery with fifteen different flavors of homemade cupcakes.

Draco’s eyebrows went up as he ordered the one called “Chocolate Orgasm” and nibbled away at it slowly, in a sensual, nearly erotic way. Harry wondered what the elegant man would look like spread out on a bed, preferably naked, panting, and crying out Harry’s name.

Harry, at least, was hoping that the night would take a sexual turn; however, he didn’t want to come across as sex-crazed or desperate. (Although since the Aiden debacle, Harry had been faced with a somewhat dry spell.)

So he consumed his peppermint and earl grey flavored cupcake and reached across the table to hold Draco’s hand.

The two stared at each other, blood rushing to their cheeks (and to other places), a dark blush on both of their faces like they were wanton teenagers on a first date.

Draco let go to cough, breaking the spell. Once he regained his breath, he said, “Harry, I’m quite interested in your work. I think it’s a funny coincidence that we both are Marine Biologists. Tell me, what do you want to do with your life once you finish graduate school?”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” Harry said. “Honestly, I haven’t decided quite yet. Right now, I’m thinking about my thesis, but I’m not quite sure what I’m going to research, or which professor I want to work with. I’m taking loads of classes, but I hope to get a PhD and I’ll have to write a thesis for that. What was your thesis about?”

“I don’t have one, actually. After I finished my masters’ program, I got a job as Associate Penguin Manager at the aquarium, and I think I’ll get a promotion to Penguin Manager because Penny’s leaving to work at NOAA,” Draco said. “But I haven’t decided yet, maybe I’ll go back to school for a PhD.”

“I could write about penguins,” Harry said with a smile. “I bet you have plenty of funny stories about them.”

“Oh, yes, that,” Draco said, smiling and rolling his eyes. “Penguins, the bane of my existence. They’re awfully noisy, and they shit everywhere. Minerva and I spend a lot of our time cleaning their rocks, those filthy, nasty animals. And they’re hungry constantly, despite the fact that I’m supposed to cap how much food they get or else they’ll become quite overweight.”

“Interesting,” Harry said, to show he was listening; but Draco wasn’t done.

“But the worst has to be mating season. They all get super horny and pair up, and there’s quite a bit of aggression. We take all the mating pairs off exhibit, because they distract visitors and, honestly, explaining penguin sex gets quite tiring. They are awfully wild and noisy and vocal when they do it,” Draco said.

Harry snorted.

Draco raised one eyebrow and added in a sensual whisper, “Just like me.”


	24. Chapter 24

Draco could barely keep his libido in check as the duo left the cupcake shop and walked the one last block back to Draco’s house.

“I think it’s safe to say you want to come in, right?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Harry responded. Draco noticed his voice was huskier and deeper than it had been before.

“Come up then,” Draco said, and they had barely made it into Draco’s flat, and Draco was just delicately setting his bag on the bench near the front door, as Harry pounced.

Kissing Harry Potter, for the second time, was delicious. Delightful, delectable--Draco was deliriously happy. Harry kissed Draco’s mouth powerfully, then peppered little kisses from Draco’s jaw line down to his neck, making him shiver.

“I think we should probably go to bed, no?” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear. Draco detected insecurity underneath the confident tone.

“Yes,” Draco whispered, and Harry picked him up in those strong, loving, saviour-esque arms and carried him down the hallway to bed.

From then, it became a game to see who could divest the other of their clothes the fastest. Grabbing at cloth, buckles, zippers, buttons like the green teenagers they were.

“Be careful!” Draco hissed as Harry pulled off his shirt. “Throw everything towards the dresser; it’s spelled to fold.”

Harry laughed, a big strong laugh. Draco chuckled too, though he was incredibly turned on from hearing the thrums in Harry’s chest where his head was pressed against the man’s bare chest.

“We’re both about to shag,” Harry said, “And all you’re concerned about is whether your poncey designer clothes get folded. That’s pretty gay.”

Draco made a noise of discontentment, but laughed along with Harry. 

“You know what’s even gayer?” Harry asked.

“What?” Draco said, feeling like he knew what Harry was going to say.

“Gay sex.”


	25. Chapter 25

Harry thought that waking up next to Draco Malfoy was even better the second time. It was a Saturday, and it was ten o’clock, and they had shagged, and Draco hadn’t had to get up to go to work.

Last night had been rather noisy, as Draco promised but nothing that a Muffliato or a Silencio couldn’t take. Harry had come undone several times, screaming Draco’s name as he laid above the pliant, beautiful man.

But now, Draco stirred from where he was nestled in Harry’s arms, and Harry traced a finger along soft, pale, white, kissable skin on Draco’s arm. He gently kissed it, and Draco cracked a smoky grey eye open to look into Harry’s vibrant green eyes.

“Good morning,” Harry whispered.

“Good morning,” Draco responded.

Harry’s brain nearly short-circuited. What were you supposed to say to someone once you had woken up with them after a night of mind-blowing gay sex?

He decided on an action instead, pulling Draco closer to him. Warm skin met warm skin, and Harry moved his hand so he could stroke Draco’s soft golden hair. It was really truly soft, and light gold-white especially up close. Harry noticed a small strip of graying hairs near Draco’s ear.

“We really should tell Pansy and Hermione the news,” Harry said.

“That we shagged?”

“That we’re together. They’ll both be so pleased. They did quite a lot of work for this,” Harry said.

“I never said anything about wanting to be together, maybe this was just a one night stand,” Draco joked.

“You insufferable prat, you know you want to date me, or else you would have kicked up a huge ruckus. Will you just date me, you silly git?” Harry laughed, and planted a kiss on Draco’s nose.

“Of course,” Draco said, sniffing as if disaffected. “As you know, Malfoys only deserve the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with the story all the way through! I really appreciate all your comments, kudos, and bookmarks! This was my first actual, long Drarry, so I really appreciate support from you wonderful readers.
> 
> Though I think I've reached a good ending point, stay posted, because I might write an epilogue! (I'm thinking proposal? I kinda want to tie in Pansy, Hermione, Ginny...I think that'd be a good way to do so!)


End file.
